


A Merry Little Christmas

by Dingoes8MyName



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dingoes8MyName/pseuds/Dingoes8MyName
Summary: This scene takes place during Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s season 3 episode “Amends” after Buffy goes after Angel, leaving Faith to keep an eye on Joyce on Christmas Eve.





	A Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was also posted on my Tumblr.

Faith stood by the front door of the Summers house, her brows still knit in confusion. Buffy had run off so fast, she hadn’t even given Faith the rundown. Joyce’s voice drifted in from somewhere else in the house. The kitchen, probably.

“Buffy?”

Faith turned around as Joyce came into the living room, a carton of egg nog in her hand. Joyce was slightly relieved to see the brunette still standing there. She’d thought maybe Faith had changed her mind and taken off.

“I thought I heard the door,” Joyce said.

Faith took a few steps toward her, ringing her hands nervously. Explanations weren’t really her thing. Joyce frowned at Faith’s alarmed expression.

“Is everything okay?” Joyce asked.

Faith glanced over her shoulder toward the door.

“Uh…”

The truth was she didn’t really know if everything was okay. Buffy had looked pretty freaked out when she left.

“Did Buffy come down?” Joyce asked.

Faith turned back to her and tried to smile, though it was a bit strained.

“Um… Yeah. She had to go take care of somethin’.”

Joyce frowned.

“Now?”

Faith shrugged.

“I guess. She didn’t really fill me in on the details.”

It wasn’t lying if she really didn’t know what was going on, right? Besides, Buffy probably wouldn’t want to worry her mom. Joyce sighed.

“I swear, I’ll never be able to keep track of her,” she muttered.

Faith shifted her weight, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“Well, what’re you gonna do, right?”

She gave a nervous chuckle. Joyce’s annoyance dissipated and she smiled at Faith.

“I guess it’s just the two of us, then. Come on. I’ll pour you some egg nog. We’ll have a girls’ night in.”

Joyce headed back toward the kitchen and Faith followed a tad reluctantly. A girls’ night in with Joyce Summers? What did that look like?

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Sounds like a hoot.”

Joyce got back behind the L-shaped counter and poured egg nog into the two glasses she’d pulled down from an overhead cupboard. Faith stood on the other side of the counter, feeling awkward hanging out with Buffy’s mom without Buffy there. Joyce glanced at Faith as she poured.

“This thing Buffy had to… take care of,” Joyce said. “It’s not a slayer thing is it?”

Faith looked at her in surprise. Joyce turned to put the carton back in the fridge.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I understand this is a… a calling, and I’m trying to be supportive. But, slaying on Christmas Eve? I mean, shouldn’t you girls get…”

Joyce shook her head, knowing it was a ridiculous notion as she said it.

“I don’t know, a day off?” she continued.

Faith smiled.

“That’s the thing about demonic types. They don’t really care about holidays. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

Faith looked down at her hands, picking at her fingernails. Joyce studied her curiously.

“You’re not much for holidays?”

Faith shrugged.

“No family to spend 'em with, I guess they stopped bein’ a big deal.”

Joyce’s expression grew pained. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Faith, being a slayer and having no one to look after her. She forced a smile.

“Have a seat. Stay a while. I feel like if I blink for too long you’ll sneak out the back door.”

Faith chuckled and sat down on one of the stools in front of the counter. It kind of reminded her of a diner. Joyce handed her a glass of egg nog and Faith took it gingerly.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Joyce took her own glass and sat on the stool beside Faith. They were quiet for a few seconds, each unsure of what to say.

“So, uh… How’s everything going with you?” Joyce asked. “Aside from the slaying.”

Faith took a big sip of egg nog and hurriedly swallowed.

“Oh. Uh… You know. Five by five.”

Joyce wrinkled her brows.

“I’m sorry. Is that good? I’m not up on all the lingo you kids use.”

Faith smiled, setting her glass down on the counter.

“Things are… fine, I guess,” she clarified.

Joyce looked down at her glass, proceeding gently.

“Buffy mentioned she hasn’t seen much of you lately.”

Faith looked at Joyce, halfway between suspicious and curious.

“Yeah?”

Faith wasn’t sure if Buffy had been talking about her, or if Joyce was making it up to be nice. Joyce met Faith’s gaze.

“I don’t want to pry, but is everything alright between you two?”

Faith straightened, a pang going through her gut.

“Why? Did Buffy say something that made us sound… not alright?”

Her nervousness revealed itself in her voice, if only a little. Yeah, she’d been a little distant from Buffy, but it wasn’t like she’d done anything bad. Right? Joyce smiled warmly.

“Just that you haven’t talked much lately,” Joyce assured her. “I think she worries about you. I do too.”

Faith looked down at the counter with mixed feelings. Part of her was a little pissed that Buffy would talk about her behind her back, even if it was to her mom. Another part of her was a little glad to be talked about. Joyce frowned, afraid she’d made a mis-step.

“I’m sorry,” Joyce said. “I know it’s none of my business. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

Faith looked at her.

“No,” she said. “It’s okay. It’s nice to be worried about, I guess.”

Joyce sipped her egg nog. Faith did the same, vaguely wondering if there was booze in it. That was how they made the stuff, right?

“Did something happen?” Joyce asked.

She sounded vaguely confused. Faith looked at her over the rim of her glass.

“Huh?”

She wiped a bit of egg nog off her chin with the back of her hand. Joyce set down her glass, turning to face Faith better.

“I know you two… Oh, how do you describe it?” Joyce began. “You have different… styles. When it comes to the slaying. Is that right? Am I saying this right?”

Faith considered it and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Buffy’s all about the plan, you know? Givin’ the orders, divvying up the work, bein’ prepared.”

Joyce stared at her, fascinated and genuinely interested. Buffy rarely talked to Joyce about her life as the slayer, and when she did it was often because she had no choice.

“And you don’t agree with that,” Joyce reasoned.

Faith looked up toward the ceiling thoughtfully.

“It’s not that I don’t agree with it,” she said. “She’s got her thing goin’ with her team and everything, and it’s cool. She’s stayed alive this long, she must be doin’ somethin’ right.”

Joyce cringed slightly, briefly reminded by Faith’s presence that her daughter had once died. There was so much she didn’t know. Faith looked down at her lap.

“I just don’t really fit into it,” she muttered. “Thought I did for a minute, but…”

She shrugged. She wasn’t really sure what had happened to change things. They’d fought over that stupid glove, over a lot of things, really. The glove had just been how they got there.

“But, you don’t feel that way anymore,” Joyce prodded.

“No. Guess not,” Faith said.

“I can’t imagine why,” Joyce said. “I know Buffy’s quite fond of you and it seems the others are, too. Xander, Willow, Mr. Giles.”

Faith faced the counter, wrapping her hands around the glass of egg nog to keep them occupied.

“We sort of had a disagreement,” Faith said.

That was a bit of an understatement. They’d been at each other’s throats, beating the bag out of each other. They’d been on opposite sides of the fight and it still wasn’t sitting well with Faith.

“About slaying?” Joyce asked.

Faith studied her, debating how much to say. She might have been on uneven footing with Buffy, but that didn’t mean she was about to spill all her dirty laundry all over her mom’s kitchen counter.

“Kind of,” Faith said.

She licked her lips, considering how to proceed.

“Do you know about Angel?” Faith asked. “The whole… thing with Buffy and Angel?”

Joyce rolled her eyes.

“Ugh. Don’t get me started on Angel.”

Joyce stopped herself, her eyes widening slightly.

“I know he cares a great deal about Buffy,” she said quickly. “And I understand she's… hung up on him. I was young once and I get the appeal of an older man who’s a little dangerous.”

She pointed a finger at Faith.

“Do not tell Buffy I said that. Being the mom means I can’t admit things like that without sending mixed messages, or grossing her out.”

Faith laughed, surprised at this small revelation.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Mrs. S.”

She turned to face Joyce, feeling a little closer to the woman at being entrusted with a little piece of information even Buffy didn’t have. Joyce smiled, believing Faith would keep this exchange to herself.

“It’s just, after everything that happened, everything he did,” Joyce said. “I can’t understand this hold he has on her, even considering…”

She stopped herself. Joyce wasn’t sure how much Buffy had told Faith about her relationship with Angel. Faith waited with rapt attention. Joyce sighed.

“If she knew he was back, I just wish she would have told me,” she said.

Faith shrugged.

“She didn’t tell anybody, if that makes you feel any better. I guess she figured we wouldn’t understand.”

Joyce gave a small laugh and shook her head, picking up her glass.

“She was right about that.”

Faith studied Joyce as the woman quietly sipped her egg nog. It was kind of nice to sit and have a quiet heart-to-heart with a mom, even if it wasn’t hers.

“I don’t really get it either,” Faith admitted. “I guess that’s why me and B don’t talk much anymore.”

Joyce studied Faith, putting down her glass.

“The disagreement you had was about Angel?”

Faith tapped her fingers on the glass.

“Not just Angel, but he was a big part of it.”

Joyce stared at her, interested.

“She never said anything about that.”

“It was kind of complicated,” Faith admitted. “More about her hidin’ stuff than anything. Things got kind of confusing.”

Joyce propped her chin in her hand, resting her elbow on the counter.

“How so?”

Faith tucked her hair behind her ears, loosening up a bit as the conversation went on.

“I just figured we were close and all, you know? Or, getting there, anyway,” she said. “Then they’re all having meetings without me, and Angel’s back in the land of the living, and I’m like 'What the hell happened and where was I?’ Know what I’m sayin’?”

Joyce smiled and nodded.

“Strangely enough, I think I do.”

Faith turned to face her, egg nog in hand.

“So when Xander told me Angel was back AND he had the glove I thought it was bad news.”

Joyce straightened, holding up a hand.

“Let me stop you for a moment. Did you say Angel had a  _glove_?”

The confusion was evident on Joyce’s face and Faith tried to backtrack in her head to bring her up to speed.

“Okay, so there was this glove called the Glove of Myhnegon. Big power, big danger, can’t get into the wrong hands or we’re screwed.”

Wincing at the crude delivery, Joyce nodded in understand.

“I see.”

Faith set down her glass and spoke animatedly with her hands.

“So me and Xander, we figure we gotta go after Angel before he does something crazy with this thing. But, this watcher, she sort of…”

Faith faltered, the memory of Gwendolyn Post still stinging a little, the last words the woman spoke to her coming back:  _You’re an idiot_. Joyce leaned forward, brows creased.

“Faith?”

Faith snapped back to the present, frowning.

“Uh, this watcher kind of screwed things up,” she said. “Kind of led everybody down the wrong path. Took the glove, framed Angel, tried to keep the power for herself.”

She took a few big gulps of egg nog, polishing it off and holding the empty glass in her lap. Joyce studied her, a pained expression on her face. Then confusion settled in.

“Wait, I thought Mr. Giles was the watcher.”

“He’s Buffy’s watcher,” Faith clarified. “Gwendolyn was supposed to be mine. Then she went all evil. Died.”

Joyce frowned.

“Oh, Faith, I’m sorry.”

She rested a hand on Faith’s forearm. Faith tensed in surprise and looked at Joyce. There was a little confusion in her face and Joyce smiled sadly at her.

“Buffy told me you lost your last watcher. It must have been hard to lose another like that.”

Faith dropped her gaze, forcing the emotion back.

“Whatever. Not like she actually cared about bein’ my watcher,” she muttered. “I was just her way in. A way to get close to Buffy, the glove.”

She shrugged.

“Can’t trust people.”

Joyce was taken aback, straightening.

“You can trust some people,” she said.

Faith set her glass on the counter.

“I wouldn’t know.”

She slid off the stool and stood. Joyce did the same, her gaze on Faith as she turned her back and walked a few steps.

“Faith,” Joyce said.

The young woman turned around and Joyce paused, wanting to choose her words carefully.

“If you ever need anything,” she said. “If you need someone to talk to, or…”

She shrugged and chuckled.

“A hot meal.”

Faith’s mouth twitched into barely a smile.

“Thanks. I’m okay.”

She headed into the living room. Joyce followed, lingering for a moment in the doorway. She tried to put herself in Faith’s shoes: alone in a strange town, a slayer, no parents, no watcher. Joyce stepped into the room.

“Do you want to watch a little TV?” she suggested. “They always play Christmas movies.”

Faith shrugged.

“Sure.”

She sat down on the couch while Joyce switched on the TV.

“I’m partial to  _It’s a Wonderful Life_  myself,” Joyce confessed. “I know it’s not everybody’s cup of tea, but I just love that story.”

Faith smiled.

“No, that sounds nice.”

Joyce sat next to Faith with the remote, her attention on the television.

“I’ll bet it’s on somewhere,” she said.

Faith watched her as if seeing her for the first time. This woman was so warm and kind, welcoming Faith into her home like she’d welcome any of Buffy’s friends. Joyce settled on a news station as a man’s voice crackled out of the speakers.

_“… cold front moving in causing record low temperatures in Sunnydale.”_

Faith’s gaze ticked to the TV and the two of them leaned forward, watching the forecast.


End file.
